Twilight

Chapter 14

Shivering, Leafpool peered out into the clearing. If Tigerstar looked up, she felt as if his amber gaze could have burned away the tree trunk to reveal her cowering behind it. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his sons. But this was a dream! Had Tigerstar called them to him as they slept, in the same way that medicine cats walked in dreams with StarClan? He had brought them somewhere Leafpool had never been before, a place of endless night where living cats never set paw. Even StarClan, she guessed, had never breathed the dank airs of this forest, or padded through its sickly light.

“Courage matters more than anything,” Tigerstar was saying. “Remember that, when you are leaders.”

Hawkfrost meowed something that Leafpool didn’t catch; Tigerstar twitched his tail impatiently.

“Of course courage in battle is important,” he rasped, “but I’m talking about courage in the way you deal with your own Clan. They must accept your orders, and if they question you, back up your decisions with tooth and claw.”

Leafpool’s eyes stretched wide in disbelief. Firestar had never attacked a member of his Clan, even if they disagreed with him.

“Weakness is dangerous,” the huge tabby continued. “You must hide your doubts—or better still, don’t have doubts at all. You must always be certain that what you are doing is right.”

Was that how Tigerstar had felt, Leafpool wondered, when he had murdered Redtail and plotted the murder of Bluestar so that he could be Clan leader? When he led the dog pack to the ThunderClan camp to gain revenge, and brought BloodClan into the forest to help him force the other Clans into submission—had he been completely sure that he was right?

Hawkfrost’s ice-blue eyes were fixed on his father; he was obviously drinking in every word. Brambleclaw had his back to Leafpool so she couldn’t see his expression, but his ears were pricked. Icy claws gripped her heart. Tigerstar was training his sons, like a warrior preparing an apprentice for battle! He was trying to turn them into the kind of murderous tyrant he had been.

“But how do we become leaders?” Brambleclaw asked. “I don’t think Firestar will ever make me his deputy. I haven’t even had an apprentice yet.”

The fur on Tigerstar’s shoulders bristled. “When you hunt, do you expect the mice to leap into your jaws?” he hissed. “No. You scent your prey, you stalk it, and then you pounce. It’s the same with power. It won’t come to you unless you seek it.”

Brambleclaw muttered something, and Leafpool saw Tigerstar’s neck fur lie flat again.

“Don’t worry,” he meowed. “Both of you have the true spirit of warriors. I know you will succeed if you follow my pawsteps closely.”

“We will!” Hawkfrost leapt to his paws. “We’ll do whatever you tell us.”

His enthusiasm chilled Leafpool. What could this bloodthirsty cat command his sons to do? She shrank back, shivering, and although she didn’t think she had made a sound, the huge tabby’s head swung around and he peered into the shadows where she was hiding.

Terrified, Leafpool turned and fled, blundering among roots and trailing stems of bramble, bracing herself to hear sounds of pursuit and to feel a massive paw grabbing her by the throat. There were no paths out of the dark forest. Trees stretched endlessly on every side, and there was no birdsong or rustle of prey, no sign that any living creature had ever trodden among these dark thickets.

Where am I? There was no reply to Leafpool’s silent wail.

What had brought her to this place where StarClan had never set paw, where the spirit of a murderous cat could call his sons to him in dreams?

In her panic-stricken flight Leafpool didn’t look where she was going. Suddenly the ground gave way under her paws.

She let out a shocked yowl as she plunged into darkness; her body hit the ground with a thump that drove the breath out of her.

Her eyes flew open and she let out a gasp of terror. A tabby head was a mouse-length away from hers, amber eyes staring down at her.

“Are you okay?” Brambleclaw meowed.

Leafpool scrambled into a sitting position, scattering scraps of moss. She was in her nest outside Cinderpelt’s den.

The creamy light of dawn was seeping into the sky above the trees.

“Leafpool?” Brambleclaw sounded concerned. His pelt was ruffled, with bits of bracken sticking to it, as if he had only recently roused from his own nest in the warriors’ den.

“Is something the matter? I heard you cry out.”

“What? No—no, I’m fine.” Leafpool stared uncertainly up at Brambleclaw. Had he come to tell her that he’d seen her in his dream?

“Firestar is choosing cats to go to the Gathering tonight,” he meowed, yawning. “Are you fit to come? I know you had a long journey yesterday.”

Relief swept through Leafpool from ears to tail-tip. If Brambleclaw had really had the same dream, he hadn’t noticed her in the shadows. But her relief faded as she wondered if he had chosen to visit his father in the dark forest.

What was Tigerstar going to make him do to become Clan leader?

She got up, still feeling shaky but determined to hide it.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Tell Firestar I’d like to come.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and backed away. Leafpool took a few deep breaths before giving her pelt a quick grooming. She had completely forgotten that this was the night of the full moon. Even though her pelt prickled with fear, she wanted to watch Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw together.

Would they give away what was happening as they slept?

How often had Tigerstar called them to him in dreams before now?

Leafpool knew there was no cat she could ask for advice.

Firestar and Cinderpelt both took her dreams from StarClan very seriously, but this dream was different. She didn’t dare tell them about it; she was terrified of what the dream might mean, for she had never heard of any other medicine cat walking where she had walked. In that forest, she had felt farther than ever from her warrior ancestors. If she lost touch with them altogether, would she be condemned to wander forever in that dark place, and never find her way back to the light?

Even though it was very early, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. Cinderpelt was still in her den, so Leafpool decided to go out and look for herbs. They could do with more borage leaves, especially if Mousefur was feverish.

She knew a patch of borage grew close to the abandoned Twoleg nest. Leafpool slipped out of the camp and padded along the disused path. The gray, cloudy weather had given way to sunlight that shone warmly on her fur. Green shoots were thrusting up through the ground. Buds were swelling on the trees and birds sang above Leafpool’s head, promising plentiful fresh-kill as newleaf approached. The forest couldn’t have been more different from the dark place of her dream, yet Leafpool could not shake off the terror, and found herself glancing over her shoulder at every pawstep.

Her pelt crawled when she came in sight of the tumbledown nest, with shadowy holes in its sides like eyes staring at her. Then she braced herself and padded more boldly through the trees, sniffing for the borage she had come to collect. What was there to be frightened of here, for a cat who had walked in Tigerstar’s forest?

She was on her way back, carrying a satisfying clump of fragrant borage leaves, when she spotted a flash of pale fur behind a clump of bracken. Curious, she circled the bracken and found herself on the edge of the mossy clearing where the cats went for battle training. Cloudtail was there with Daisy, standing over her with his ears pricked.

“No,” he meowed. “You’ve got to hit me. Hard.”

Daisy blinked at him with limpid blue eyes. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cloudtail’s tail curled up. “Don’t worry, you won’t. Come on, try again.”

The horse place cat gave him a doubtful look, then ran at him, flashing out a paw as she went past. Cloudtail dodged aside and hooked out Daisy’s paws from under her so that she sprawled on the grass in a tangle of legs and fluffy tail.

“That’s not fair!” she wailed. “You never said you were going to do that.”

“Oh, right.” Cloudtail couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “Do you think in the thick of a battle an enemy warrior will come up and say, ‘Be careful, I’m going to push you over now?’”

Daisy lashed her tail. “It’s not like I’ll ever need to fight.”

“You might.” Cloudtail’s gaze was serious now. “If another Clan attacked us—or other creatures like foxes or dogs—you need to know how to defend yourself. If you don’t, you could get really hurt.”

“Oh, all right.” Daisy gave her creamy chest fur a couple of licks. “Show me again what I’ve got to do.”

Leafpool thought Cloudtail had a tough task ahead of him if he was going to turn this kittypet into a competent warrior.

Daisy didn’t seem to have any fighting instinct at all. But the white warrior seemed willing to teach her. Leafpool remembered how he had shown infinite patience with Brightheart after the she-cat had been attacked by the dogs, and needed to learn a whole new way of fighting and hunting. Perhaps he would be able to teach Daisy to be a warrior too.

Thinking about Brightheart made Leafpool want to get back to camp. She still didn’t like the way the ginger and white she-cat was taking over all her duties.

She waved her tail in greeting as she padded past Cloudtail and Daisy; as she left the clearing she heard Cloudtail meowing, “This time try to pretend I’m a badger and I’m going to eat your kits.”

“But my kits really like you,” Daisy protested.

More warriors were up and about by the time Leafpool reached the stone hollow. She nodded to Sandstorm, who was leading Spiderleg and Thornclaw out on a hunting patrol, then she went to find Cinderpelt in her den. But it was Brightheart, not Cinderpelt, who came out to meet her.

“Borage!” the ginger and white she-cat exclaimed.

“Thanks, Leafpool. We have hardly any left, and Mousefur’s fever isn’t down yet.” As soon as Leafpool put down the borage at the mouth of the den, she grabbed up a couple of the stalks and hurried toward the clump of fern and bramble where the elders slept beneath the twisted branches of a hazel bush.

Leafpool let out a hiss of annoyance and slashed at the nearest bramble with her paw. Brightheart was behaving as if she were the medicine cat, and Leafpool just her helper.

“What’s the matter?” Cinderpelt emerged from the mouth of her den, gave the remaining borage an appreciative sniff, then limped across to join Leafpool.

Leafpool shrugged. “Just too many medicine cats around here,” she muttered.

Cinderpelt’s blue gaze rested on her. Leafpool looked up and saw wisdom and compassion there, and something deeper she could not name. “Be patient with Brightheart,” the medicine cat mewed. “Everything has changed for her.”

More quietly she added, “The greatest gift we could ask for is the courage to accept what StarClan sends us, however hard it seems.”

Leafpool was surprised to see a flash of sadness in her mentor’s face. She wanted to ask Cinderpelt what she was talking about, but she was afraid of the answer. Was she just talking about Brightheart, and the courage she had shown in accepting her disfigured face? Or was she trying to tell Leafpool that she wasn’t needed anymore, now that Brightheart had begun to take on the role of medicine cat?

Before she could summon the courage to say anything, Cinderpelt disappeared back inside her den. Leafpool was about to follow her when she saw Cloudtail push his way through the thorn tunnel with Daisy just behind him. Daisy’s kits, who were tumbling together at the entrance to the nursery, sprang up and scampered across the clearing to fling themselves on Cloudtail. The white warrior toppled onto his side and wrestled with the kits in a play fight, his claws carefully sheathed.

“Hey, Berrykit, get off!” he panted, giving the creamy-white kit a gentle cuff around the ear. “Mousekit, that tickles.

And who’s got their teeth in my tail?” He rolled over, taking the smallest kit with him. “Hazelkit, show a bit of respect for a warrior!”

“He’s really good with them.” Brightheart had returned and stood gazing at her mate with a wistful look. “He’ll be a fantastic mentor,” she went on. “He was so patient with me when I was injured. He worked out all kinds of fighting moves for me so I could be a warrior again.”

Leafpool felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for her.

Maybe Cinderpelt was right, and Brightheart had more changes to get used to than any of them. It couldn’t be easy for her to watch Cloudtail spending so much time with Daisy and her kits. But her sympathy dissolved when Mousefur padded up and spoke to Brightheart.

“I forgot to ask you,” the brown-furred elder meowed.

“Can I have some poppy seed? This fever has kept me awake for two nights now.”

“I’m not sure,” Brightheart replied. “I don’t think you should have poppy seed on top of all that borage. Let’s ask Cinderpelt if she has anything better.”

She led the elder behind the brambles that screened Cinderpelt’s den, leaving Leafpool to stare after them in frustrated disbelief. Who’s the medicine cat around here? If Mousefur or Brightheart had bothered to ask her, she would have suggested chewing a dandelion leaf instead of poppy seeds. But they’d acted as if Leafpool wasn’t even there.

Maybe Cinderpelt would make Brightheart a medicine cat apprentice. But I’m still her apprentice, Leafpool thought miserably. Even though she had her proper name now, she would continue to learn from Cinderpelt for many more seasons.

She had never heard of a medicine cat having two apprentices at the same time. Besides, she added to herself, Brightheart has a mate, and a kit. She can’t be a medicine cat. Right?

She felt as if a huge stone hung in her belly, weighing her down. Maybe this is a sign from StarClan after all, she thought. A sign that I’m not needed in ThunderClan anymore.